Desperation
by Yukann
Summary: Summary: The war had been going on for years now, Voldemort had taken over almost all of Magical Britain while the resistance has all but been destroyed, with only a few stragglers left. Harry Potter, in an act of desperation, used an ancient summoning ritual to get help. A blond man wasn't what he expected.
1. Chapter 1

Desperation:

C01:

Summary: The war had been going on for years now, Voldemort had taken over almost all of Magical Britain while the resistance has all but been destroyed, with only a few stragglers left. Harry Potter, in an act of desperation, used an ancient summoning ritual to get help. A blond man wasn't what he was expecting.

Disclaimer: I don't own FFVII or HP. They belong to their respective owners.

A/N: Yea, this plot bunny wouldn't leave me alone so I had to write it and post it. Enjoy~

C01: Ritual

The war had been dragging on for seven years now and all Harry wanted to do was rest, but that would mean giving up, and he would not give Voldemort that satisfaction, not when so many people had already been sacrificed.

So, he continued on, hoping on hope that this war would end someday.

Harry had just finished brewing some Skele-grow when his remaining best friend, Hermione, suddenly yelled in glee, "I've found it! Oh thank Merlin!"

Harry, bewildered, turned to look at her, his wand instinctively in his hand.

"Found what 'Mione?"

He wanted to know what could have made his friend so happy, even after Ron's death three months ago.

"I've found a way to help us!" She yelled, waving the book, Rituals of Old, around wildly, bushy hair bouncing.

Harry's eyes widened as he registered what she said. A way to finally end this war for good?

"What do we have to do?"

Consequences be damned! Harry couldn't care less; he just wanted the goddamned fighting to end.  
Hermione looked up, saw the determined glint in his eyes and gave a nod.

"First, we have to…"

-0-

Day by day, Cloud got by with the barest edge of his sanity. His mind was slowly being destroyed by the memories that were in his brain and he was unable to tell which was whose. He was slowly going insane.

Cloud was on a delivery right now, riding his bike, pushing it to go as fast as possible, to feel the thrill, the adrenaline as he felt the wind rushing by. This was the only thing that could ground him to reality, not lost in his own world.

Suddenly, the blond felt a pulling sensation in his navel. It grew stronger, tugging his stomach area.

Cloud panicked, hurriedly stopping his bike and proceeding to grope his naval.

What was happening?

A sudden flash of bright, white light encompassed his whole being, blinding his sensitive Mako eyes. Cloud felt the pull becoming a harsh tug that dragged him through what felt like a tube before dumping him unceremoniously on the ground. He groaned, muscles he didn't know he had aching.

When the blond opened his eyes, he was confronted with wide, terrified emerald eyes that belonged to a messy black-haired youth, looking to be in around his early twenties.

Then, his vision suddenly went black and he passed out.

-0-

Harry bit his lip in nervousness. Hermione had warned him of the danger, that this ritual could kill him. However, even a slight chance to defeat Voldemort must be taken.

To save his loved ones, Harry would go to Hell and back. He took a deep breath to steady himself before beginning the chant.

The circle, drawn in his blood, along with the sigils on the floor, started glowing. Harry felt a slight relief. Everything was going according to plan. So far.

Finally reaching the last few lines of the spell, he felt his magic being drained alarmingly fast, as if someone had attached a tap to his reserves and turned it on. The teen wanted to stop but Hermione had said that if he did it halfway, the results would be disastrous.

The emerald-eyed man didn't want to take that chance. So, he continued.

When he finally finished, he was standing from sheer willpower alone. The glowing had changed to blinding light now and suddenly, a loud boom echoed around the basement where the ritual was being held.

Harry was pushed back and smoke was coiling around the room in a thick curtain. A dark, blurry silhouette could be seen at where the centre of the circle should be.

The wizard, although wary, had his curiosity burning. So, he walked, more of limped, forward to investigate. What met his sight wasn't what quite he expected.

A blond man looking the same age as him didn't really strike him as something that could help him against the war with Voldemort.

Suddenly the man stirred. Panic started to set in. He could be a spy sent from Voldemort!

A groan.

Then, glazed blue eyes fluttered open. Harry opened his mouth to say something, but the man had fallen back into unconsciousness.

-0-

Cloud felt his consciousness returning. He groaned, eyes squinting slightly as he woke. The blond glanced around the room he was in, taking in every detail from the small table to the cupboard and the door at the far end of the room. The bed he was in was quite large, enough to fit in at least three people.

The door opened without warning, revealing a black-haired man carrying a tray of things. Cloud, with the reflexes borne of having to be able to react fast enough or be killed, tried to get up, only to feel a sudden sense of dizziness and fall back onto the bed, exhausted.

The man with the tray saw what he was trying to do and hurried over, slight concern etched on his face. The tray was dumped onto the bedside table and the black-haired youth went to help him up. Cloud grimaced as he felt calloused hands on his back and shoulder; he loathed feeling helpless and with his current state, that was exactly how he felt.

"Here, let me help you up."

Careful, gentle hands grasped his right shoulder and left hand, and surprising strength lifted him up. Pillows were placed generously at his back to help facilitate comfort.

A steaming pile of food, freshly cooked from the looks of it, was placed onto his blanket-covered legs.

"I thought you'd be hungry. So I brought you some food. It's not poisoned, I promise."

The accent, Cloud just noticed, was a type he'd never heard before, and before he could stop himself, he blurted out, "Where am I?"

The green-eyed man widened his eyes and his back stiffened for a moment before settling back down.  
A solemn look passed over his face.

"Welcome to number twelve Grimmauld Place, London. I, no we, need your help."


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own.

A/N: Sorry for the long wait. It takes me awhile to get rid of enough of my laziness to write one chapter. Haha XD

Anyways, hope you guys will enjoy this chapter as much as I had fun writing it! I feel like some parts are a bit awkward, but well, I didn't want to keep you guys waiting anymore so yeah. Hope y'all don't mind! And as always, reviews are appreciated!

Desperation C02:

"What? Why do you need my help?" Cloud asked confusion apparent in his voice.

Harry sighed, and settled the tray on the table. His guest didn't seem like he wanted to eat anymore.

As he sat down, he waved a hand and a stone bowl with strange inscriptions on the edges suddenly flew into the room. Cloud watched in slight amazement. Materia couldn't do that.

"My name is Harry Potter," the man said, startling Cloud out of his musings. "And I'm fighting a losing war."

Blue eyes stared at the man, and Cloud gave the patented (by Vincent) 'are you stupid or just lacking a brain in general' stare at the other man. Harry coughed, muffling a laugh, a bit uncomfortably.

"You haven't let me finish yet, and I hope you'll tell me your name and abilities when I'm done," the black-haired man not-quite-demanded.

When he saw the blond nod, he continued, and explained everything that had happened (not any emotional details, just dry facts).

And then he came upon the Battle of Hogwarts, five years ago.

"I... The battle was going on when I got back to Hogwarts and I saw him, standing there and looking so smug. That made me mad; so many people had lost their lives in this war and for what? I didn't think, I was just so furious. So I charged, and thrust my wand forward and shot the killing curse. It was a mistake."

Green eyes briefly closed in pain as he went on.

"He summoned one of my friends as a shield and as the curse hit, he managed to shoot one – Cruciatus – spell at me. I got incapacitated and the Dark won the fight. The rest of us had been saved by fast acting allies who fled quickly. And then the next few years went by."

And as Harry continued, and Cloud listened, Hermione stood outside the door and smiled. It seemed as if her best friend could finally start to let go.

-0-

Green eyes stared determinedly at the man before him, as butterflies flew in his tummy.

When Harry used the ritual and summoned someone or something to help defeat Voldemort, he had expected either a very strong magical object or a person who exuded power. Not this slight, short man who's only show of strength was in the large sword he wielded all too casually.

However, Harry had to have _some_ hope that the ritual went right, and he didn't just pull some poor sod away from his family to fight in this war. So, he'd lugged the surprisingly heavy man up and into one of the guestrooms available, and settled him in. Then, he bustled about the kitchen to make some food to be served to his guest.

The silent aura of power that the man exuded around him was not what Harry had expected when he'd stepped back into the room to feed him. Neither was the unexpected flash of aborted movement that sent the blond tumbling back onto the sheets. The man was already awake, even though Harry had casted a spell to keep him down for another – he glanced at the clock on the wall – half hour.

"My name's Cloud. Cloud Strife."

This unexpected insert had actually dumbfounded Harry for a moment, bringing him out of his thoughts. Green eyes blinked in confusion before they cleared, and a smile bloomed on his face, the subtle agreement not lost on him.

And it was in companionable silence that both of them ate.

-0-

The dining room was noisy, as all the members of the Order of the Phoenix gathered, or what remained of them. Remus, as tired-looking as ever slouched in one corner of the room, as Tonks, burn scar across her face from a spell soothed him. Teddy was settled between them, wide-eyed and innocent – it was too dangerous to leave him alone in their house nowadays.

Draco Malfoy, blond and arrogant (façade), and one of the fiercest fighters against the Dark Lord after the man had murdered Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. The blond made a surprisingly good second-in-command.

Neville, tall and lean, having grown out of his childhood baby fats and teenhood lankiness, was conversing, quite amiably, with Draco, though the blond made no move to answer him. It was obvious though, that the Malfoy was in fact listening to the Gryffindor.

The noise level continued to rise, as the many people continued to chatter on. It was only when Harry came down the stairs along with Hermione that everyone quietened down.

Kingsley was the first to speak. "Harry! What business do you have calling us all down here?"

The Boy-Who-Lived smiled.

"Why Kingsley, no "Good to see you?" or "How are you doing?"" Harry teased.

Over the years, a close comradery had bloomed between the two men. Considering that they were both fighting a war, and on the same side, it was inevitable that they would grow closer.

Harry had shown first-hand, how skilled he was with a wand, and Kingsley, impressed, had taught the then eighteen-year-old some useful spells. It progressed from there, and now they could fight on even terms. Harry respected Kingsley, and vice versa.

The ex-auror grinned. "Well, I alreay know how you're doing and you already know it is good to see you. Why should I bother asking stupid questions?"

His grin dimmed. "But seriously Harry, What did you call us out here for?"

The younger man smiled mysteriously, and Kingsley knew that he had found something to help in this war.

"I would like to introduce someone." Harry said, and waved a hand behind him. Slowly, a blond, with one of the most ridiculous hairstyle anyone had seen, stepped out from the doorway.

He was dressed in all black, with a wolf motif on his only shoulder guard and his earring. A pink ribbon that, surprisingly, did not look out of place was tied to his left arm. His eyes, reminiscent of the sky was wary and guarded, but what caught their attention the most was the large harness that had several pockets which contained a sword each.

"This," Harry started, his voice filled with hope for once in so long that everyone couldn't help but be rejuvenated, "is Cloud Strife. He's the one who can defeat Voldemort."

The silence ensued was understandable. The clamour that followed the silence was deafening. And when Harry threw a grin at Cloud, the blond wondered what the hell he had gotten into.


End file.
